Things We Lost In The Fire
by musicminor
Summary: Set during the first book, but instead of Peeta and Katniss playing the love card, it is Cato and Katniss who end up together. Katniss has caught Cato's eye, first when she volunteered, then with her impressive training score of eleven. Rated T for occasional language and violence. Reviews/Critique is highly welcome, please leave comments!


I distinctly remember the paralyzing shock and fear that momentarily overcame me when I heard prim's name get called. Then, seeing her slowly walk towards that stage, it all jarred me back to the present, and the realization that my sister was to fight to the death crashed heavily on my shoulders. I couldn't let that happen. She would be dead within the first hour, much less the first day.

She was only twelve years old. I pushed my way through the crowd, her name tearing its way from my lips. Peacekeepers came to secure me, to keep me back, but the words, "I volunteer!" rang from my lips and hrough the crowd, and they quickly released me.

That seemed so long ago, but it's only been three days. I had been put on a train along with the male tribute to my district, Peeta Mellark.

We had spoken very little so far, but the first two days trained together, talking more and more over the past few days. I don't know why I decided to get closer to him, to befriend him. In three days, we would be in an arena to fight to the death.

But… having someone from home comforted me a little. Would we be allies once the games started? I'm not too sure, to be honest.

I look at a clock that hangs on the wall in my room, and see it's time to go down for the final day of training. I exit the room, but Haymitch, our mentor, stops me, and he says that Peeta wants to train alone for the time that remains before the games. Then he is gone.

I look down for a moment, feeling betrayed. Why do I feel this way? Am I really foolish enough to think I had made a friend, or just an ally, in all of this? You couldn't make _friends _in the games. Everyone knows that. I shake my head, trying to get rid of the thoughts in my head. I need to focus on training and only training now. I don't need Peeta. _You won't be able to make it back to Prim if he's still alive. He would have had to die anyways, Katniss. _

I take the elevator down to the training room, and keep my head down. I know Haymitch told me to lay off archery until the private sessions, but I'm in a bad mood, and that calms me down, so I ignore what he has told me.

I pick up a bow and arrow, and nock an arrow, and I focus on the thin outline of a person about fifty feet ahead of me. I know I can hit the target, I've done it a million times back home, but this bow is different. It's a bit stiffer than the wooden one I use at home, but it has a similar likeness, and I know after I get used to it, it will be no different.

I pull the string back a few times to get my fingers used to the tight string, and after a couple of minutes, I'm ready. I see out of the corner of my eye that the tribute from district two is staring at me intently, a look that is almost like… disappointment? No, that's not quite it. Disbelief. Disbelief is definitely the expression I see on his face.

This angers me more than it should, so I decide to ignore him, and focus on the target in front of me. I pull back the string, almost pressing it against my face, and stare at the outline, concentrating hard. After a few seconds, I let go of the string, and the arrow pierces the target where the heart would be. I glance to the side and see a slightly satisfied look on the boy's face before he turns and starts to talk to the other Careers, who have undoubtedly already teamed up together.

I pick up another arrow, string it in the bow, and aim once more, and the arrow hits the exact center of the target, and I smile, feeling… proud? Good? I'm not sure, if I'm being honest with myself. A couple of the other tributes were watching me as I shot, and this makes me uncomfortable. Maybe I should have listened to Haymitch. Why let my enemies know my strengths? But it's too late now.

It's lunch time and I'm sitting alone for the first time this week, which probably makes me look either weak or introverted, but I guess the second one is true. I've never been a social person, not when I was a kid, and not now. I usually sat with Peeta, but I choose a seat away from him, and he didn't object, so I decide I don't care anymore. After lunch, it's time for the private sessions with the gamemakers. As usual, district twelve goes last. I wait impatiently as the tributes go in, one by one, and don't come back. I guess they go back to their rooms, but I don't know.

After an hour, or maybe longer, has passed, it is just Peeta and I in the room, and I avoid looking at him until I hear him speak. "Shoot straight, Katniss." I look at him, and smile slightly. My name is called, and I get up, take a deep breath, and go into the training room. I can tell that the Gamemakers have had too much to drink, and are very bored. They've seen twenty two tributes perform for them already, and they clearly don't want to be here. Wonderful.

I pick up a bow and string an arrow like I always do, and aim at the target. I let the string go, and the arrow misses the target, barely hitting the outer arm. Any attention I had from the gamemakers is gone, and they focus their attention on a huge roasted pig that someone has ordered. I'm extremely mad. I have to go into an arena with twenty three other kids, fight to the death or get killed by some sadistic thing that _they _have come up with, and they aren't even paying attention to me! I hastily string an arrow, aim it at the stupid apple in the stupid pig's mouth, and let the string go, the arrow flying towards them, piercing the apple and pinning it to the wall.

Appalled looks are sent my way, but I don't care at all. I sarcastically bow, my gaze still set on them. "Thank you for your consideration." I straighten and start towards the door, and almost forget to leave the bow behind. I set the bow down and leave without being dismissed.


End file.
